


Not Dead Yet

by leashy_bebes



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:34:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leashy_bebes/pseuds/leashy_bebes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine-centric gen-fic . My own little addendum to 4x12, so spoilers</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Dead Yet

**Author's Note:**

> Violence, threats of violence to others. Basically what was going on in the last ep. Nothing particularly graphic, I've rated it for the threat more than anything else.

After Gwaine has killed a third, then a fourth and fifth of Morgana's men, her cool, commanding voice rings through the hall.

"Stop," she says, and Gwaine sways on his feet, steadies himself as best he can. Without a word, the sword he managed to wrestle from the third man is flung from his hands and his arms forced behind his back.

 _She really is beautiful_ , he thinks as she approaches him, an almost coy expression on her face as she looks him over.

"You're a strong fighter," she says, walking in a slow circle around him. "Join us," she offers, once they're facing each other again.

Gwaine just smiles and lowers his eyes to the floor, stained with blood she has forced him to spill.

"Well?" Morgana asks, grabbing his chin again. "Will you bow to your queen?"

"Oh, my lady," Gwaine says, his eyes searching her face before he lowers his voice. "Never."

She releases him with a little push and with a flash of her golden eyes she has him on his knees. He tries to lift his head up to glare at her, but the pressure on the back of his neck is unbearable.

"You can force a man to his knees," he says through gritted teeth. "But that's not the same thing as having him bow to you."

Morgana's laugh is a sharp, tinkling thing. "Really? It looks the same from here, wouldn't you say, Helios?"

"Much the same," Helios agrees.

"And that is why Camelot will never truly be yours," Gwaine tells her.

She still sounds amused as she pushes Gwaine away with another magical touch. "Continue," she says, as she walks to the throne.

Gwaine dives for a sword just in time.

*

"This is getting dull," Morgana announces some time later.

"Couldn't agree more," Gwaine pants, his grip slipping on a bloodied mace. "Bored out of my skull."

Morgana's smile hardens beautifully and she shifts on her throne, glancing at the Southrons massed around her.

"And this is your knight of Camelot. Who fights for glory and for his king, and kills only when he must."

There's general laughter and Gwaine rolls his eyes. God, but they're easily amused, this bunch. Morgana stretches her fingers in Gwaine's direction and he feels his chin lifted for inspection as though by an invisible hand. She won't think about digging those talons of hers into his face when he's got a weapon in his hand, oh no. Not that Gwaine imagines he'd get the chance to do a whole lot of damage with it.

"They kill," Morgana says, her voice rising above the Southron jeers. "They kill because they can, and because it is easy, and because they enjoy it."

"Ah, my lady," Gwaine says. "You shouldn't disparage yourself so."

Morgana's face hardens. "See how he revels in it? It seems feeding the old man is no longer motivation enough."

She gestures with a finger towards the back of the hall. Gwaine doesn't give her the satisfaction of turning to look, keeps his eyes on her and her friend Helios, imagining where he'd land a killing blow. His mind readily supplies the possibilities anyway. Kind, innocent Percival, perhaps. Any of the countless friends Gwaine has made and Agravaine, that bastard, knows about. Even his younger brothers, the ones Gwaine hasn't seen in years. Who knows how far Morgana's powers extend? And of course if it's Merlin, then they're all done for, because Merlin won't be far from Arthur, and if Morgana's army has the king then Gwaine's status has just shifted from pleasing diversion to annoying distraction from the main event.

The reality becomes clear in the form of an eerie wailing sound from beyond the door when it opens. Screaming mothers. Gwaine sees the cold light of triumph spark in Morgana's eyes and knows his expression has betrayed him. He's forced to wonder about the other Morgana, the one a few drunken nights have told him Merlin carries a lot of guilt over. The one who defied her king to feed peasants.

The crowd behind him parts and a dozen or more children are ushered in at the point of a sword. They are a mixed bag of street-smart kids from the lower town and wide-eyed, shocked looking noble children. As they are shoved forward to gather in front of Morgana's throne one of the older girls catches Gwaine's eye. She's the sister of one of the stablehands, Gwaine sees her around the place a lot. She has her arms around a younger boy, who is trying bravely to stop crying into the folds of her skirt. As she passes him Gwaine nods affably, as though this was any other day and they were passing in the stable block.

"Long live the king," he says in a conversational tone, glad she's smart enough to hide the smile that lights up her eyes.

"Enough," Morgana says sharply, and she's hiding her irritation less and less well, Gwaine can't help noticing. "How does this sound? For every one of my men you vanquish, one of these dear, lovely children of Camelot walks out of this room alive. Save them all, _Sir Gwaine_ , and you and your cellmates will eat tonight."

"Sounds like a fair trade to me," Gwaine says loudly, hoping that among the assembled Southrons there will be at least a few wondering why their lives are considered the equal of a captured enemy brat.

*

When they drag Gwaine back to the cell, he collapses before Elyan can reach him. The cold stone floor feels good anyway, although he wishes it would just stay still. But, it's worth it.

Morgana's guards throw food in after Gwaine – not all of it mouldy, either – and fourteen children are alive tonight because of him.

He breathes raggedly through the agony of Gaius attempting to dress his wounds, and tries as hard as he can to pretend he never heard Morgana promise her men another full day's entertainment at Gwaine's expense. Gwaine feels Elyan's fingers close around his own and squeezes back.

"We're not dead yet," he tells Elyan.


End file.
